I Was Hoping It Would Be You
by a.fictional.love
Summary: A series of one shots and drabbles of all kinds - thoughts going through characters' heads, scenes that should have happened but didn't, fluff and nonsense, AUs when creativity strikes, responses to quotations. Requests welcomed.
1. Surprise

**Hello lovely readers! Thank you for taking a look here. These have been sitting untouched in a file on my computer since the summer. I never got around to posting them, and then school came and all my time went POOF! And now that I've found a little more time and I'm off my reading binge (if you haven't yet, go read _The Mortal Instruments _and _The Infernal Devices_ series by Cassandra Clare. Seriously, go. Right now) and OUAT is on hiatus, I figured I could post some of these.**

**This drabble and the next were not the first ones I wrote, but I thought it fitting to start off where they did. So enough talk, let the drabbles commence!  
><strong>

**Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time or any of the affiliated characters :'(**

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><p>1. Surprise<p>

It didn't make sense for there to be a survivor amidst the chaos. Cora was ruthless and meticulous, a combination of traits that gave Emma a mental image of the woman pleasantly strolling between the corpses the littered the ground, checking to make sure they were all dead.

Something was wrong.

As far as Emma could see, there wasn't anything wrong with this man. The rust-colored smears on his face that she had originally thought were blood had turned out to be dirt. Blood would have made it more convincing. So not only was there a survivor, but he wasn't even injured.

Something was very wrong.

She wasn't buying his story. Her internal lie detector refused to let her believe the cowardly actions he claimed he took. He was an excellent liar, she admitted, but there was a spark in his crystal blue eyes that made her certain there were still things he was keeping from them.

It was so satisfying to hear him admit it.

The one thing she hadn't expected was recognizing his name. It never failed to trigger her cynicism when she met a new fairytale character, but this time was different. Snow White was young and beautiful; Prince Charming was handsome and brave; the Evil Queen was dark and devious. That's how they were.

Captain Hook had chicken legs, a bad perm, and a lavender feather that clashed horrifically with his red coat. This was not Captain Hook. This man had an intelligent, mischievous air about him that would have given the cartoon Peter Pan a run for his money. And his eyes were too pretty. It was a bit of a pity that the ogres were going to make dinner out of him.

And then he started talking again. For a moment, she thought it may have been cowardice driving his pleas, and she was sure the prospect of being an ogre's next meal was some fuel for him, but they really weren't pleas. They were demands. She couldn't help her jaw from dropping slightly; he was tied to a tree and he was trying to negotiate as if he was worth something, as if they needed him and his invaluable services. He wasn't begging at all. In fact, she noted, he was seething when he told them of his reason for going to Storybrooke: Revenge.

And that, she knew, was the truth.

This was most definitely not the Captain Hook she would have expected. This was someone far more dangerous.

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><p><strong>Reviews are the best, and requests are more than welcome!<strong>


	2. Respect

**If you liked what was in the previous drabble enough to continue here, thanks for reading! Here's Hook's POV.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time or any of the affiliated characters. One day I might get over that fact. **

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><p>2. Respect<p>

He wished the princess with the auburn hair would speak to him; she looked gullible. There was just something in those big, watery doe eyes. From a distance he could already tell he was winning her over with his pathetic tale, earning her pity and trust. She looked at him as someone would look at a lost and bedraggled puppy.

The one with the short, black hair would have been his second choice. She mentioned a husband - and grandson, though he didn't quite understand that part - so she was a family woman. He could spin something about a wife or child or sister into his story, and it seemed best to take the tremble out of his voice if he was around her, pretend to steel himself and be strong in the face of what he had supposedly just witnessed.

The woman in armor was one he'd rather not approach. He could tell she wasn't that big, but there was something about her that told him not to underestimate her - perhaps it was the sword hanging at her side, or the daggers he could see tucked into her boot and belt. It would take a little more time to analyze her current stoic countenance.

And then there was the blonde...well, she was a hard ass if he ever saw one. One eyebrow seemed to be arched whenever she looked at him, in a constant state of doubt. Gorgeous, but impossible; he could feed her as much of the story as he wanted, but she wasn't having any of it.

He couldn't blame her. The lines Cora told him to use were far more contemptible than touching. Funny how he'd found someone who agreed with him: this woman who crossed her arms and narrowed her gaze and tied him to a tree.

It wasn't about how well he could act or spin his tale of tears; she came in and took over his show. She was in charge now.

She had seen right through him.

She had bested him.

And if he was being completely honest with himself, threatening to make him an ogre's dinner only made him respect her more.

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><p><strong>If you liked it, review! If you want to see more, send me a request!<strong>


	3. Want

**Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time or any of the affiliated characters. But I do own a Captain Hook t-shirt, so at least there's something.**

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><p>3. Want<p>

He wasn't sure why it bothered him so much. It shouldn't have bothered him that much.

Actually, it shouldn't have bothered him at all. He'd gotten the bean - not fairly, but he rarely did things that could be considered "fair," especially by the people of Storybrooke; Charming's morals practically needed their own seat at the kitchen table.

His didn't. Once upon a time, they had been like that, but not anymore.

So why was he not gone yet? Why was he still holding the bean in his hand? He ran his thumb along the smooth surface. Its power made his palm tingle.

All he had to do was throw it into the water. It was such a simple action, and then he'd be back in his world, on his ship, doing whatever the bloody hell he wanted to do.

He could have been there and back twice at this point. Why was he still thinking about her and her stupid town and her silly people and her problems that were most certainly not his.

He shook his head, unable to believe that it had come to this. Annoyance in every step, he walked away from the starboard side and went below deck to his cabin. At his desk, he pulled out the middle drawer on the left and removed the false bottom.

There it was, sitting exactly where it had been left when he had been entrusted with it. He'd been allowed full use, but never found the need. He always knew exactly what he wanted.

Until now.

Frustration about the whole situation resurfaced. He grabbed the small box and slammed the drawer shut.

"This is ridiculous," he muttered a minute later, back on the deck again. To his left was a crate where he placed the bean. On his right, a mile away but still visible, was the town.

Looking down at the box in his hand, an unfortunate feeling developed in the pit of his stomach and hardened like a rock. He was positive he knew what the outcome would be, but he flipped the lid up anyway.

The pointer spun vigorously, slowed, and finally stopped.

It wasn't pointing left.

"Damn," he breathed. Wanting to want something wasn't enough.

He flicked the pointer, making it spin again. This time, the stop was much more abrupt.

It still wasn't pointing left.

"I'm going to regret this."

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><p><strong>Reviews make my heart sing! Also, anyone know where the compass comes from? ;)<strong>


	4. Yearn

**For anyone who guessed - yes! The compass was my little tribute to Pirates of the Caribbean. I don't know, seemed appropriate, and it fit my purposes well. Anyway, let's continue with some Regina sass.**

**Disclaimer: I still do not own Once Upon a Time or any of the affiliated characters**

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><p>4. Yearn<p>

Regina was well aware that the Un-Charmings were physically and mentally capable of looking after a teenage boy whose only preoccupation was getting to the next level in his video game, but criticizing anyone who was taking care of Henry was a natural response for her. She couldn't help herself.

And choosing the pirate...now that was something she could find a lot to say about.

She found no other way of summing him up than as a raging lunatic with a hook for a hand, wondering if it would elicit a comment from Emma, who usually just rolled her eyes behind Regina's back.

But not today. This time, the Savior said something.

"I trust him," she explained, lowering her voice. "He brought me back to Storybrooke and he didn't have to."

"Of course he brought you back," Regina replied, noting that Emma had defended Hook as a person more so than she did her decision to leave Henry in his charge.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Emma challenged.

Regina turned, actually shocked that the blonde seemed not to know what she was talking about. Scene after scene played in Regina's mind like a slideshow; she'd caught the glances when they were in Neverland, the staring when they were in Granny's, the whispers and close proximity on the day everyone had said goodbye. Emma's blank look seemed sincere, but it would be ridiculous for her not to have a clue. No matter what Regina said, she knew Emma wasn't stupid. "Seriously? You're going to pretend everyone doesn't see the yearning looks and doey eyes?"

"I don't yearn," Emma said flatly.

"Well, maybe," Regina admitted, believing that, with a lot of ignoring and deluding, it could be true for Emma. For the other half of the pairing...not so much. She lowered her voice, like she was sharing a secret, a wicked grin on her face. "But he does."

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><p><strong>Anyone else love Regina? I <strong>**just**** think she's such a fun character! **


	5. Good

**Hope you all enjoyed Regina, Queen of Sass. A little more serious here, with what was definitely up there on the list of "heart-wrenching, life-ruining OUAT moments." **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time or any of the affiliated characters. But I do own two cats, so that's something :D**

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><p>5. Good<p>

"Emma," he breathes. He stops her without thinking, an unconscious part of his mind compelling his mouth to open and his feet to walk. Now he has to say something. Anything.

He sees the sadness glimmer in her eyes. The harsh reality that this is all coming to an end slaps him in the face. He can't bear his last sight of her to be one with tears on her face.

"That's quite the vessel you captain there, Swan," he jokes, indicating the little bug and its cheerful yellow hue, out of place in these last few torturous minutes. His jest manages to make her smile, but it is a sad smile. He knows he won't accomplish much more than that.

"There's not a day that will go by that I won't think of you," he says quietly. Surely by now, she is well aware of his feelings, and that she occupies the majority of his thoughts, and that the only thing he wants to do is hold her in his arms and make her forget every bad thing magic has ever done to her.

He wonders if the line he has just stepped over is one she doesn't want anyone to cross, wonders if he has just slammed into one of the many walls she puts up around her heart.

Her green eyes shining through tears, she replies simply.

"Good."

Relief surges through him, and he can't help it as the corners of his mouth pull up with a trace of happiness. For once, none of her walls are barring his entrance. Her gaze even flits briefly to his lips, and back to his eyes, and he's overwhelmed by the urge to draw her towards him.

But there is another blockade, the impending distance. He can see in her eyes that they both acknowledge that it exists, and that it isn't fair. Pulling her closer now will do nothing to ease the imminent separation.

He takes a step back, then another, feeling as if he has to drag himself through a kind of resistance, his willpower trying to overcome fate.

He lets her go, repeating her last word to himself over and over as he watches her walk away, drive away, and disappear in the haze of purple smoke.

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><p><strong>I watched this scene on repeat - my heart broke every single time - and Hook's line is kind of hard to hear and it sounds like "There's not a day will go by I won't think of you" but that was kind of grammatically "uhhhhh" so I did the best I could. Reviews are welcome, as are requests, and any opportunities to meet Colin! 3<strong>


	6. Characters

**There was a suggestion for a scene of my own devising rather than one where I journey into the thoughts going through characters' heads. Sorry if I get carried away with that, I have this thing about analyzing characters and figuring out why they do what they do. But I have some scenes that aren't like that, and here's one I had fun writing and hope you all enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own OUAT or any of the affiliated characters**

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><p>6. Characters<p>

Killian observed the cover art on the box for the movie, confused by one thing.

"They all look so happy flying around with him. When do they find out Pan is evil?"

"Well..." Emma couldn't think of any other way to explain it. "They don't."

Killian blinked a few times. "They don't?" he repeated, obviously confused.

"He's not the bad guy. You're the bad guy."

"I'm the bad guy?" he exclaimed. "Now, that's not to say I wasn't always a villain, but to make him out to be the hero and my adversary..." He actually sounded genuinely insulted.

Emma rubbed a hand up and down his arm. "It's just a kids' movie," she reminded him. He nodded, but didn't say anything as he returned his attention to the screen, crossing his arms across his chest. She scooted closer to him, pulling one of his arms around her, and succeeded in making him smile.

But when the animated Captain Hook entered, his jaw fell. "You have got to be kidding," he breathed, aghast as he beheld the silly feather and bright red outfit. "So this is what you meant by waxed mustaches and perms. They are bad," he grumbled, but kept watching, and kept up his occasional personal commentary until the film was over.

"That was awful," he criticized as soon as the credits started to roll. "I mean, I suppose Tinkerbell wasn't too bad, and Smee was accurate to a degree, but everything else..." he trailed off, shaking his head in disbelief. "And what was with the Crocodile taking me prisoner? I don't even put up a fight, it's pathetic! And one other thing bothered me."

She smiled a little at his ramble and at the fact that he was getting so worked up about a children's film. He seemed more appalled than annoyed now, and she was thoroughly entertained. "Yes?"

"Gold is the Crocodile."

"Yes."

"He's also the Beast from the other movie with Belle."

"Yes."

"And he's Rumplestiltskin."

"Yes."

Killian leaned back, sinking into the couch cushions. "So basically, he beats me, gets a castle and a princess, and spins straw into gold, while I'm a pitiful villain with skinny legs, a mountain of a nose, and ugly hair?"

Emma's lips trembled with laughter, so she just nodded.

Killian frowned. "I'm not so sure about this Disney fellow."

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><p><strong>Leave a review if you feel motivated! Suggestions are always welcome! (And I know Disney didn't come up with Peter Pan)<strong>


	7. Why

**Here's another AU! An imaginary scene where Emma confronts Killian about his wacko behavior after Zelena cursed his lips and promised to kill everyone. Kinda angsty, not usually my thing but I figured I'd give it a try. Let me know your thoughts!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time or any of the affiliated characters**

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><p>7. Why<p>

"You know, I can tell that you're avoiding me," she says gently. "Why?" Her eyes express the confusion she feels. She's always confused around him lately.

"Nothing," he mumbles. He looks down at the water, staring at his reflection: A selfish pirate trying so desperately to be a hero. Inwardly, he scoffs, wondering cynically how long he can delude himself with that charade.

Next to his reflection is Emma's. She is looking it him. "I can tell when you're lying," she reminds him lightly, and tries again. "What's wrong?"

The reasons swirl in his mind, circling and repeating themselves until he thinks they'll echo forever, tormenting him with the reminder that she can never know. He only shakes his head.

Her hand covers his, and he stiffens, pulling it away. "I can't." His words are sharp, terse.

In the water, he sees one of her eyebrows raise in disbelief. She isn't one for being kept out of things, and as this involves her, he can't blame her. "Can't or won't?" she interrogates.

There is no hesitation. "Can't."

To smother the faint glimmer of hope and happiness she has only just adopted since her return from New York, to give to her the burden of knowing that the only choice she has is determining the time of the death sentences for all her friends and family...

_Lose your magic or watch everyone you love die._

_He could never do that to her._

She is silent after his response, prompting him forward, quietly. He can't stand to see her hurt, and something inside of him burns knowing that he is the one causing her pain. "You, Emma, are quite possibly the strongest and most selfless person I have ever known. Permit me for once to follow your example."

"For once?" she asks, not willing to reveal how unsettled she is by his sincerity. Her hand gestures vaguely out to the sea. "What about what you just did for Ariel?"

"It wasn't me," he responds, quickly and somewhat bitterly. "I had no part in it." He closes his eyes, disgusted by the man he sees in the water below, and anxiously runs his fingers through his hair.

"Okay, fine, you didn't." Emma pulls away slightly, wondering why he is so adamant, so frustrated. His evasiveness makes her all the more determined to continue. "But you're the furthest thing from a coward."

His voice is harsh as he degrades himself. "Agree to disagree, Swan." He shakes his head to himself and begins to stand. "I should be going."

She can do nothing but gape at this depressed man, who is most certainly not the pirate she has grown accustomed to, has grown much too fond of lately. In less than two days, the cocky, provocative attitude has disappeared, only to be replaced by this empty shell. Already, she misses their witty banter, the way he watches her when he thinks she doesn't notice, the way her heart falters when she catches him looking at her.

Her hand snatches his, refusing to let go as he stiffens at the contact again. "I miss you," she admits before she can stop herself. He turns his head, and a brief spark of hope begins to develop within her; at least he is no longer trying to walk away.

He keeps his gaze on their hands, the source of connection between them, recognizing with an ache that this will be the extent of their relationship. He considers trying to run again, but she intertwines their fingers and he understands he has been caught. She caught him a long time ago.

His eyes close, his lips part, as if her action alone has the ability to drive him wild. "Talk to me," she entreats. "Don't shut me out. Please, Killian." The sound of his name on her lips is a lullaby, luring him.

Involuntarily, he starts to lean forward, and memories come flooding back - memories of giants and magic beans, of sword fights and arguments, of a stolen kiss and the force of a knee to a rather uncomfortable body part.

To him, it was over a year spent fulfilling the vow that he would think everyday of her smile and her laugh, her wit and her courage...

But if he could last this long, he could last another day.

He stopped but a few inches from her face. "I can't." He says it gently, and the softened tone seems to soften her response.

"Why not?"

The real reason is one he cannot risk; he would rather die than allow her family one instant of peril, than allow her one moment of dread. He tells her the next best thing, one of the truths he is still certain of.

He lifts his head, braces himself, and looks her in the eyes. She searches his face, immediately hunting for the explanation for the forlorn demeanor that he has demonstrated all week. "I care too much."

Despite the gravity expressed on his countenance, she has to smile. "You do understand that doesn't make much sense."

"On the contrary, it makes perfect sense."

He hesitates before he finally turns away, giving her enough time to see the apology in his eyes and wonder why.

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><p><strong>I'm one of those people that yells at the TV so there was a lot of distress on my part when I was watching those episodes and I wanted to explore what may have been going on in Killian's noble, adorable head. Too much drama? Let me know your thoughts! <strong>


	8. Denim

**This one popped into my head back when the whole "OH MY GOSH HE'S GONNA BE IN NORMAL CLOTHES!" stuff was going on - quite a while ago, I think, just shows how long these have been sitting in a file on my computer. Anyway, I thought it would be fun to think about it. Kinda on the short side, but enjoy!**

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><p>8. Denim<p>

They weren't black.

They were blue. Not even a dark, navy color. Undeniably and by all definitions not black.

"You can't wear black all the time," Emma told him.

He frowned. "Why not?" he challenged, genuinely interested. Was this some other ridiculous law he was unfamiliar with?

"Because that combined with the eyeliner makes you look emo." So it wasn't a law, it was an Emma Rule. Which, he was starting to realize, were much more heavily enforced than laws. "Please just try them." Her hand pressed the jeans against his chest and she looked up at him. "Please?"

He sighed and conceded. It was a pair of pants, and he didn't have to like them, just put them on. In the grand scheme of things, it was probably the simplest thing he'd ever done for her. It was certainly easier than hunting down magic beans and bouncing across realms and traveling through time.

And so, he pulled on the blue pants, along with the boots and t-shirt Emma have given him. At least they were black.

He looked at his reflection in the mirror.

He stared.

He blinked a few times.

He looked like David and Leroy and Henry. He looked like an inhabitant of Storybrooke.

He looked like he belonged.

"So?" Emma called from the other room. "What do you think?"

He couldn't help the corners of his mouth from pulling up. "They feel good."

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><p><strong>Kinda cute, maybe? Let me know your thoughts! Requests are always welcome if there's something you'd like to see!<strong>


	9. Smile

**Thank you all who have been reviewing/favoriting/following! I got such lovely responses to the last post, Denim, and I'm glad you enjoyed it! Now going back to the angst, briefly. I was thinking about this scene and how it felt like a punch to the gut, did some exploring with it, and came up with this.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time or any of the affiliated characters. If I did we, wouldn't have had such a long hiatus (IT'S BACK TONIGHT! IT'S BACK IT'S BACK IT'S BACK! :D)**

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><p>9. Smile<p>

He was walking slowly down the hall of the hospital, wondering what to say to her, when she turned and saw him, a smile on her face.

It wasn't a smirk or a tired smile or a halfhearted grin, which seemed to be all anyone could manage these days. It was an actual, brilliant smile, one that drew creases at the corners of her eyes and declared to the world that happiness still existed.

"Never thought I'd see one of those," he said quietly as he approached the hospital room.

Emma stepped away from her post at the doorway and moved into the hall, eyebrows raised at him in amusement. "It's called a baby."

"No, Swan." His gaze drifted to her lips again, then quickly returned to her eyes. "A smile."

Her grin spread, telling of triumph. "We won."

His own smile fell. He didn't need reminding, because their victory had not come without complications; complications of water and darkness and a kiss he couldn't remember and wasn't sure he would have allowed to happen had he been given a choice; complications that led to his predicament at hand, in which he didn't know what to say to the woman who kissed him after saying she never would and gave up her magic to save his life.

She would have to be dense to be unaware of his feelings, and if there was one thing he knew about Emma Swan since she had called him out on day one, it was that she was most certainly not dense.

So what, exactly, did it mean that he was standing there speaking to her, heart still beating, rather than the alternative Zelena had planned for him? Did it even mean anything at all? He assumed he was making a greater deal of it than was necessary as he realized several moments of silence had passed. The least he could do was express his gratitude that his lungs were filled with air instead of water...and hope it would begin a certain conversation, the thought of which was making his heart jump erratically.

"With all the chaos," he began, remaining deceptively calm as he glanced at the Charmings and the new addition to their family, "I never got the chance to say thank you."

"You really think I'd let you drown?" she asked, indicating hints of incredulity.

Her response elevated his confidence, slightly. It was a good sign that she didn't want him dead. He remembered the last words they'd shared, part of another expressive argument where she closed off her feelings and he bared his soul. He decided to stay away from that path.

"Given our history, can you blame me for being uncertain?" he joked.

And then her smile grew. He hadn't thought that was possible, but there it was, spreading across her face and announcing her current lightheartedness.

When the conversation had started, Hook felt as if he had been walking on egg shells, unsure of which direction to take and if he would step on a sore spot and leave something chipped or cracked or completely ruined. Now, he had found his footing, seeming to glide easily along on ice, smooth and steady and a wonderful change from their last argument.

Something else had been bothering him, and he found himself able to ask, "Has your power returned now that Zelena has been defeated?"

For a brief moment, Emma appeared hesitant, and he immediately knew her answer.

"No."

Inwardly, he winced. He truly had been hoping for the return of her magic; it was part of who she was, and for it not to have returned meant that Zelena had the power to take away someone's magic permanently. It meant that Emma was no longer the Savior.

And it was his fault. "I'm sorry, Love."

"It's okay," she replied, not quite as dejected as he would have thought she'd be. She was still grinning. "I won't need it in New York."

Her smile slapped him in the face. He replayed the words in his head, making sure they were what he thought he had heard.

He felt as if the ground below him had suddenly cracked and split. He was frozen in place and, an intense, burning, stinging sensation spread through his chest.

She called to Henry and led her son into the hospital room, but Hook didn't hear anything. He unsteadily made his way to the doorframe and remained there. When Snow smiled at him, radiating the incandescent joy of motherhood, he gave her a quick, rather forced grin that was a pathetic attempt at happiness because he couldn't even try.

He didn't understand. Even if her magic wasn't to return, Henry was happy here, and her parents just had another baby - how could she leave? Now that she knew the truth, how could she go back to living the lie? Was she deluding herself?

Was he deluding himself? Those powers would be difficult to work with in New York, but without them, she was just ordinary, like she wanted to be.

Kissing him wasn't so much of a chore for her. It meant losing her magic, but obviously that was a price she was more than happy to pay. Saving his life was a fortunate side effect.

He couldn't even be angry at her. He couldn't feel much of any emotion; he was still frozen in the doorway, the fake smile plastered on his face hiding his attempts to thaw his heart.

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><p><strong>Thoughts? Feelings? Put them in the little box below and tell me what you think! And, most of all, enjoy the return of OUAT!<strong>


	10. Usual

**Hello all! Here's a little bit of cuteness to brighten up your day**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time or any of the affiliated characters**

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><p>10. Usual<p>

The bell tinkled as he opened the door to Granny's, but he barely noticed; he had grown so accustomed to it. "Morning, Killian," Granny said after a brief look up. "The usual?"

He smiled as he took the seat at the counter, the stool he always sat at. "What else would I get?"

Granny couldn't argue with that. She filled the mug with black coffee and placed it before him. A blueberry muffin quickly followed.

"Emma coming too?"

Killian nodded, his mouth full of a piece of muffin. "And Henry," he added after he swallowed.

"Know if he wants french toast or pancakes today?"

"Pancakes."

Not long after, the bell tinkled again. He didn't even bother looking up; he knew who it was.

"Morning." The words came to his ears softly, gently, from a voice he adored. A grin spread across his face; no matter how many times it happened, he couldn't help it.

He turned on his stool to see the familiar face framed by blonde hair. "Morning, Love." She kissed his cheek as she stole a piece of his breakfast. "You do have your own, you know," he reminded her, pointing to the coffee cake muffin that was sitting on a plate beside a mug of steaming hot cocoa, topped with whipped cream and cinnamon. Her usual.

She took her seat on the stool beside him. "I know." Her grin was cocky, her eyes laughing.

"All right then." His eyebrows shot up, amusement all over his face, a plan forming in his mind. "Just you wait, Swan."

Henry rolled his eyes. They always did that fluffy romantic stuff. But he couldn't care much when Granny slid in front of him a plate of pancakes, accompanied by a small pitcher of syrup. "Thanks for ordering, Killian," he said as he drizzled the syrup and began to dig in. He washed down the first few mouthfuls with his own mug of cinnamon topped cocoa.

Emma observed all the food before them. "Thanks," she repeated, bumping her knee against his.

"I hardly did anything," he admitted. "Granny just knows our usual."

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><p><strong>Sometimes we all just need a little fluff in our lives :)<strong>


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